Don't Leave Me Out in the Cold
by Wonderstruck
Summary: "He doesn't understand that leaving broke my heart—that I didn't know how to fix it when I realized how I'd demolished us both." / It's Sam&Freddie, to the tune of Back to December by Taylor Swift.


**A/N: I've never really written anything even remotely like this before. This is my attempt at a Sam/Freddie songfic (and my first attempt at any form of fanfiction). The song is Back to December by Taylor Swift. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly or Back to December.**

_I'm so glad you made time to see me.  
How's life, tell me how's your family?  
I haven't seen them in a while.  
You've been good, busier than ever.  
We small talk, work and the weather  
Your guard is up and I know why._

I'd recognize that dark brown hair and those searching chocolate eyes anywhere—although the eyes have lost their signature sparkle. I'm pretty sure I caused that. I bet if you looked in mine the fire that was there before would be absent, too. It's been so long since I last saw him. _Too _long.

Yes, I'm aware it's my fault. He was just such a stupid nub that it scared me away. Oh, forget it. I've destroyed too much already trying to hide my feelings. It wasn't his nub-ness that scared me away; it was what he made me feel.

"Freddork?" I manage to rasp out, after staring at him unashamedly. How pathetic is that? I see the geek and I can't even _breathe,_ for fat cakes' sake! That's just how far gone I am (how completely broken). It takes him a moment to register that yes, I'm really there and not something his mind has conjured up and yes, I'm actually talking to him after my disappearing act.

"Sam?" he replies in disbelief. "Er, Um, Hey," he adds as his eyes dart everywhere—everywhere that isn't me.

"I can't believe it's been so long since we've seen each other. How's your mom? How's life?" My last question is loaded. We both know he hasn't been the greatest since he lost his best friend (I still can't fathom that it was me, not Carly).

"Mom's been good. She's always getting on to me for not calling her seven times a day, though. Life's been more hectic than ever. I've been really preoccupied with work. It's been really hard to film lately because of all the rain here. I didn't know you were back in Seattle," he answers congenially, but I can tell that he's guarding himself.

"Yeah, I came back a little while ago. I was running out of money and places to go, so I figured that I might as well just come back home. We should go somewhere and catch up. Mama's hungry," I say with a smirk. I can't believe we've had to make small talk. I remember a time when we could simply stand there and enjoy each other's company like it was the most natural thing in the world. Maybe I can bring some of that back.

"Of course you're hungry. When aren't you? I guess we can go grab a smoothie or something, if you want," he replies reluctantly.

"Ah, I've missed the Groovy Smoothie and T-Bo. Let's go!" I grab his arm and bound off toward our old regular spot. After we buy our smoothies and sit down there's a lull in conversation. I gather my thoughts from my currently-chaotic mind and look him in the eye. "Listen, uh, thanks for giving me a little of your time, Freddie. I know I don't deserve this at all. I was terrible to you, and I want to at least explain to you _why_ I acted like I did. Not that it was justified. Even if you are a dorky nub." I chuckle humorlessly.

"Some things never change, do they?" He snorts.

Something flashes in his eyes and I can tell that he feels vulnerable. He had handed me his heart on a silver platter and I ripped it to pieces. I've always broken everything I come in contact with. I can't ever seem to get anything right. It hadn't mattered before Freddie and Carly, though. My mom only paid attention to picture-perfect Melanie, so she definitely wasn't an issue. I could put up a good front for Carly on most days. She at least made me want to _try. _She made me feel as though I was worth something, contrary to popular belief. iCarly preoccupied me when I had nothing else good to devote my energy to. I can't count all the times that I would've been doing something that would've landed me in jail when I ended up being having to do something for iCarly. Carly kept me in line for the most part, but even she couldn't see—couldn't fix—everything.

_'Cause the last time you saw me  
Is still burned in the back of your mind.  
You gave me roses and I left them there to die._

Somehow, in the midst of all the bickering and animosity, Freddie wormed his way into my heart. He noticed things that even Carly wasn't aware of. I don't know when he became my confidant, my safe haven, and my best friend. It just kind of happened. Don't get me wrong—I still harassed him and he still somewhat attempted to fight back. The nature of our bickering, however, had evolved into more of a playful banter than a cutthroat argument.

We got comfortable. I did, at least. There was an unsaid agreement that we were simply there for each other. When Carly was busy with one of her various boyfriends or her random extracurricular activities, we'd hang out. Fredsmart tutored me and helped me graduate with a high enough grade point average that I could've gotten into college, had I wanted to do so, and if some idiot jock tried to mess with him (which didn't happen much anymore; because he'd gotten a lot taller, a lot stronger, and a lot more intimidating), he'd get a visit from me and I'd make sure he knew that no one messed with my dork. Yeah, Freddie was _my_ dork.

My hand had found a home in his. We would casually stroll in the park with our fingers intertwined and my head would sometimes make its way onto his shoulder. Actually, it was his arm because I couldn't reach his stupid shoulder, but my vertical impairment is beside the point. I was falling hard fast (it was inescapable). It was an unspoken fact that we were together. I couldn't admit it out loud, but I was his. I'd punch him lightly and call him a sap every time he tried to be romantic, although I secretly loved every single minute of it. Some people were shocked and some people claimed to have known it would happen from day one. I was simply blissfully happy.

The happiness was short-lived. Fear seeped into my mind. I couldn't trust anyone, not even Freddie. I had reasoned with myself that he wasn't pushing anything; he knew better than to bring up feelings with me. Feelings equal weakness. I had to protect myself. Pucketts don't get _hurt_. At least, in theory they don't. They never truly open themselves up to love, to vulnerability. It's why my mom never had a functional, lasting relationship.

It was December, a year after we'd gotten together, when he finally took the risk of telling me that he loved me. I had known, of course. I just figured that if it was never voiced, I wouldn't have to deal with the reality of it. The reality was that I was _terrified_. I loved him, which automatically gave him too much power. I didn't want to hear about how he loved me; I was sure that he'd just end up hurting me in the end. I never was good at commitment. So, I ran. I ran away from him and away from feeling as fast as I could.

_So this is me swallowing my pride,  
Standing in front of you saying I'm sorry for that night,  
And I go back to December all the time.  
Turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you,  
Wishing that I realized what I had when you were mine.  
I'd go back to December, turn around and make it all right.  
I go back to December all the time._

Good old T-Bo has ham on his stick when he approaches us. "Wanna buy some—Oh! I haven't seen you guys around here in a while. I know you can't turn down ham, Sam," T-Bo booms with a grin. He nudges me with his stick and Freddie whips out his wallet (an automatic response) to pay for the chunks that I quickly yank off.

"Thanks Fredderly," I say gratefully. It makes my heartbeat erratic when he flashes me his toothy smile in response.

"Look, Freddie. You know this isn't easy for me, but I'm, well, I'm _sorry_. I was stupid and scared. I know I shouldn't have done that to you and I know I should have apologized sooner, but you know how I am with my dumb pride." The words tumble out of my mouth unrehearsed. He stares at me, calculating my words. I add, "And I miss you. Yeah, so, um, I guess that's what I've been wanting to say…"

"Thanks. I know no one thinks I should, but I forgive you. It wasn't all your fault. I knew it was risky to tell you that I love you; I knew that you could react terribly. You've always had a problem with feelings. I did it knowing the possibilities, Sam," he replies quietly. "Of course, I also should have realized that you couldn't ever love a dork like me. You made that perfectly clear the day we met. It was only logical."

"You're kidding, right? Of course I loved you, you idiot! That's what scared me, nimrod!" I snap. Anger flashes through me before I regain my composure and mumble, "I still do." He's speechless when he hears my remark.

"Yeah, you heard me correctly, Fredham. I love you. I was afraid, so I ran away. It's kind of what I do. But, I regret it. If I could go back and change that night, I would. I'd convince myself to stay, and to face whatever happened," I say in his silence. I silently chew on my ham and wait for his response.

_These days I haven't been sleeping  
Staying up playing back myself leaving,  
When your birthday passed and I didn't call._

"What?" he says incredulously. "You—you loved me? And you still left? I couldn't _sleep_ when you left, and you could walk away that easily? That's kind of hard to believe, Sam."

"You couldn't sleep? Well, I couldn't _eat_. Not even fatcakes. I never said it was easy, Fredstupid. I've replayed that night in my head every single day. I've even tried changing the ending, but, no matter how hard or how many times I try, I always end up back in reality. Just 'cause I act all abrasive and chizz doesn't mean I don't have feelings. You, of all people, should know that by now."

"I know you get scared of feelings, Sam, but running away from the people who care about you the most solves absolutely nothing. You never called, not even on my birthday," he retorted.

"I know that _now_, Freddiot. That's what I've been trying to tell you!" Now I'm frustrated. He doesn't understand that leaving broke my heart—that I didn't know how to fix it when I realized how I'd demolished us both.

_And I think about summer, all the beautiful times  
I watched you laughing from the passenger side  
Realized that I loved you in the fall.  
Then the cold came, the dark days when fear crept into my mind.  
You gave me all your love and all I gave you was goodbye._

I see a spark in his eye that sails me into a distant summer memory. We'd taken a case of his mom's prune pops (what possessed that woman to buy prune pops in bulk, I'll never know) and gone to war. I'd chucked them at him, smashed them in his face, and dropped them down his "Dork Pork" Penny tee. We had pretended that they were light-sabers and he'd made geeky _Galaxy Wars_ noises as we fought. The bright sun had beaten down on our sticky backs. We had run through the sprinklers to cool off and wash off the remnants of our prune pop war. We'd stared at the vibrant orange-pink sky at dusk, with his arms encircling me. It was, hands down, the best summer day of my entire life.

The following fall I realized that I'd fallen in love with Fredward Benson. It'd smashed through me like a train full of pig-shaped bricks. It wasn't something I could've punched. It wasn't something I could've terrorized. No, I just had to live with it. And live with it I did. Until, that is, fall had given way to winter and the world had morphed into a black, barren place.

_So this is me swallowing my pride,  
Standing in front of you saying I'm sorry for that night.  
And I go back to December all the time.  
Turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you,  
Wishing that I realized what I had when you were mine.  
I'd go back to December turn around and change my own mind.  
I go back to December all the time_

"I don't know what to say, Sam," Freddie sighs.

"You don't have to say anything. I wanted to apologize. I wanted to let you know that I practically live in December all the time now. And, I did," I say slowly.

_I miss your tan skin, your sweet smile, so good to me, so right,  
And how you held me in your arms that September night,  
The first time you ever saw me cry._

There are five people in the world who have seen me cry: Carly, Melanie, Spencer, my mom, and Freddie. The first time Freddie ever saw me cry was on a rainy September night. I'd had to deal with my mom's insufferable antics all day, and I'd been fed up. She'd thrown a suitcase at me with all the force of an agitated Puckett woman and she'd told me to get lost until she could stand to see me again. Where did I end up? Outside Freddie's window, of course. I'd stood there on his fire escape in the torrential rain, waiting for him to notice me and open the window. The tears had already begun to cascade down my cheeks, swirling with the raindrops. I'd silently cursed myself for being so weak as to result to _crying_—and letting Freddie see me cry, no less. When he'd finally opened the window and seen my hysterical state, he'd immediately pulled me into a warm embrace. He'd murmured words of comfort and I'd stained his perfect, tanned skin with my revolting tears. That was only the beginning of a routine—a tradition of sorts. Freddie came running to my rescue whenever I needed him, without any questions (until it was over). There were many painful nights after December when I ached for his cathartic smile and his soothing voice.

_Maybe this is wishful thinking,  
Probably mindless dreaming  
If we loved again I swear I'd love you right._

"Sam," he whispers as if he can't bring himself to say it any louder, "we could try again." He swallows and says with more conviction, "We could start over." I can't breathe. Does he really mean it? Did he even really say it, or am I hallucinating now?

"I don't deserve it, but I swear if we loved again, I'd love you right," I say, letting go of all my inhibitions. My voice cracks. If anyone else heard me this vulnerable, I don't know what I'd do. With Freddie, though, I don't hold back. Not anymore.

_I'd go back in time and change it but I can't  
So if the chain is on your door, I understand._

"I understand if you—if you don't really want to. I don't have the best history. I don't want you to feel obligated or anything," I add quickly.

"Shut up, Puckett," he cuts me off with a smirk. In an instant, I feel his warm lips press against my own and my eyes snap shut. A smile creeps onto my face and I'm giddier than Frothy when he figured out how to work the remote controller. I don't know what'll come next. I don't know if we'll work out this time (I have a hunch we will), but I'm not going to make the same mistakes twice. Love isn't a forced to be toyed with.

_But this is me swallowing my pride,  
Standing in front of you saying I'm sorry for that night,  
And I go back to December.  
Turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you,  
Wishing that I realized what I had when you were mine.  
I'd go back to December turn around and make it alright.  
I'd go back to December turn around and change my own mind.  
I go back to December all the time._

I'm going to keep that December fresh in my mind. It's a reminder of how my erratic decisions can send my world—and Freddie's—spiraling into the darkest abyss known to man. That icy-cold memory (oh, the horrible possibilities) will haunt me until the very end of time.

_All the time_

**A/N: So how'd I do? Love it or hate it, please review! (Yeah, that's right. I just rhymed. Haha.)**

**A/N take two: So, I went back and edited a few small errors. It's basically the same, but the changes were necessary in my silly mind xD **


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